A Future Worth Fighting For
by everyhazyday
Summary: It's 1946 and Sybil is starting her first year of college. Optimistic and bright, she is a little let down when she realizes how much sexism and prejudice that still needs to be fought. Tom comes back from the war a changed man, both physically and emotionally, and isn't sure if there are things still worth fighting for.
1. Chapter 1

**Author Note: It's been a long time since I've written anything and I don't think I have ever attempted a multi-chapter fic like this. (I have one M/M one I was writing a long time ago but I didn't have it planned out like this one), anyway, I'm excited about this and I hope that you guys enjoy it. **

* * *

His family meant well, they really did, but he wasn't sure how much more of them he could stomach. It had been years since he'd lived at home with his mother and younger siblings and he was continually reminded of why. For one, he was sharing a room with his younger brothers, which he didn't mind except he always felt like he was in their way. Well, in their small house he was always in somebody's way. In fact in an attempt to avoid being a nuisance he was sitting in the kitchen window sill, halfway out and halfway in, the sounds of car horns and shouting mingling with the measured piano practicing that was coming from within.

His mother, who always talked while she cooked was puttering around the kitchen putting together dinner. Poking her head from behind a cupboard door she called to Tom's brother, "Michael, I need you to run down to the store for me."

Tom bent his body, bringing his head back in the house, "leave him ma, he's studying. what do you need? I'll go."

She shook her head, "never you mind, you just relax." She leaned over and patted his leg before turning towards the hallway, "Michael!"

Tom sighed. Knowing it was pointless to argue with her, he headed out of the room, passing Michael in the hallway. Tom's teenaged brother was almost as tall as him now but he was thinner than Tom and full of an innocence and energy that Tom could only wish of having again.

His youngest brother Ralph was in the bedroom when Tom walked in but neither boy said anything. Tom didn't even bat an eye as the army men were quietly picked up off the floor and the nine year old took them out to the living room. He didn't blame the kid, they had hardly known each other before and now Tom was sullen and moody and he knew it, he just didn't know how to fix it.

Pulling some papers from the drawer he leaned back, looking them over. It might not fix things but it would at least get him out of the house.

* * *

As the president finished his speech with a hearty "I am pleased to announce the 1946 academic year open" Sybil grinned. She was so excited to be here, it might not have been her first choice of schools but she was a college student. She cheered with all the other girls and looked around knowing these girls would be the ones with her through it all.

The crowd spilled out onto the lawn surrounding the old hall, Sybil longed to join the girls to her right that were introducing themselves. She was just about to speak up when she heard the familiar voice of her mother, Cora, ring through the crowd, "Sybil, Sybil dear, there are some people you just have to meet before we meet your sisters for lunch."

Her mother being a member of the board was one of the reasons Sybil was attending this school, the school that Sybil had been calling a school for weddings since Mary had been a student. She shouldn't complain, for a few uncertain years Sybil wasn't sure she wanted to attend college, of course she wanted to learn but it had seemed so pointless while there was so much good work to be done otherwise.

By this time Cora had managed to make her way through the throngs of students to Sybil's side. Taking her by the arm she led her to a group of faculty and staff from the school. The names were all a blur as Sybil shook hands politely with a couple teachers as well as the dean himself, a tall older man with a wide smile. She was relieved that she and her mother were excused from the typically expected small talk by their waiting lunch reservations.

The restaurant was fancy, one of those places that everyone who is anyone goes, Sybil couldn't be sure if her mother, or sister Mary had chosen it, but it made sense of either of them. Both Mary and Edith were there when the host led them into the table near the center of the restaurant. It smelled divine and her stomach growled, reminding her of her missed breakfast.

It wasn't long before her mother and Mary were engaged in a conversation about who was getting married and other things when her mother spoke up to all of them. It was pointless to Sybil really, all the who's who business. There was more to life than parties and weddings. She turned to Edith halfway behind her menu and rolled her eyes.

Edith had always seen a little more eye to eye with Sybil on these kinds of things and she smiled, "at least you will be able to get away from this at school, it's all I'll hear all year."

Holding back a smile Sybil tried to give her sister a sympathetic look, it was most of what her mother talked about, anybody living with her received a constant stream. "I'm sorry Edith, you'll have to…"

As if she knew what they were talking about Cora looked across the table expectantly, and Sybil's voice trailed off with a smile. Luckily she didn't need to make an explanation because all focus was then drawn to the waiter that arrived to take their orders.

Back in the dorms Sybil set about unpacking her things. With her family in town it had been impossible to get away much before now but since classes started the next day Sybil had finally convinced her it was time for her to go and behave like the other college girls.

She had just put her the last of her things in place and pulled out one of her school books to look over when laughing could be heard from down the hall and soon the room was filled with girls.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: I forgot to make it clearer that Sybil is at Radcliffe, a former women's college in Cambridge, Mass. I meant to mention it and then forgot. Sorry. **

* * *

His fingers stroked the shiny handle of his car door. This car had been Tom's life for so long he couldn't bear to part with it even if he couldn't use it properly anymore. He should give it to Michael, or Kieran, or even sell it but he couldn't bear to, not yet anyway.

Tom had always loved cars. Even at thirteen he had been working odd jobs and saving his money for a car he could someday call his own. A few years later when his older brother Kieran open his mechanic shop Tom was right there with him, working every day after school and then full time after graduation. Many times he could have bought a beat up car and had one to call his own but what he wanted was special. The car had been his baby before the war and had been left with careful instructions for care, it was still in perfect shape, and if left with Tom it would stay that way.

"It sure is handy that you don't have very many things to move, seeing as I'm doing all the work." Tom looked over at his brother, who was carrying a box away from the car. Tom had no doubt that Michael meant nothing beyond Tom's daydreaming but Tom felt the impact greater when he realized that Michael would be doing most the work. He cursed himself and his situation under his breath as he took a smaller suitcase and followed his brother into the small apartment.

The apartment was tiny, but size didn't matter. Tom had paid from his precious saving to have a place of his own and that was enough. He was even more thankful he had made that choice with the memory of last night fresh in his mind.

It had been another terrible night, stuck in the cold waiting hoping the next strike would not come. Come it had, bombs raining down on him and his comrades, smoke and flying debris adding to the instant confusion. Tom scrambled in the direction of escape, not knowing what was going on around him. Suddenly, with the drop of another bomb he was thrown against the wall something heavy landing on top of him. He screamed out in pain.

It was the pain that woke him. It only took a moment until he realized he was in the bedroom he grew up in, his brothers just feet away. The pain was the usual discomfort only heightened by a cramp. He rubbed the muscles furiously, holding back more groans of pain but not managing to hold back the tears. Tom knew there was no way that Michael and Ralph had slept through his initial outburst but he was glad they pretended to sleep on.

Just days ago he had told his family of his plans for college. He had presented the whole plan- having applied, been accepted, and found a place to live all before telling them. The surprise was evident, no Branson had ever gone to college, let alone one as good as Harvard. His good high school grades and the lack of men applying this year had helped him wrangle that.

Now he was here, hardly enough time to do anything before the semester started the next day, but he was here. Tom Branson, former mechanic, son of two Irish immigrants, was a Harvard student.

* * *

This wasn't what she thought she was getting into, or at least not what she had been hoping to be a part of. The girls who shared her hall all seemed nice enough, none seemed very serious though. In the chatter of the first night Sybil had asked the others what they were going to be studying. A little laughter had struck out, a girl named Gwen mentioned her business major but the majority seemed to be joking a little about their own. Ethel, Sybil's roommate had been as bold as to say she was there to study the Harvard men. The group's conversation then turned to who had beaus and who didn't but Sybil had a hard time letting the quick exchange go.

Of course she knew that some girls went to college with the goal of getting married. It had been an obvious thing when Mary had gone to school, but Sybil had thought for sure with all the changes that had come while the world was at war that some priorities would have changed as well.

Sybil's first few classes were already lacking in the depth she craved. She could tell from the teacher's introduction the first day in her beginning anatomy class that not even the teachers were taking their education seriously.

"In this class we were learn the basic parts of the human body, covering all the things you will need to know as mothers or maybe nurses." The professor had said.

Sybil's hand shot up and after it was lazily acknowledged she expressed her concerns, "will it be enough to help us when we get into our medical graduate programs?" This class was listed as a requirement for all pre-med majors.

He looked at her sternly, "young lady, it is my duty as your professor to teach you the things you will need when you are no longer a student here, the chances of one of you becoming a doctor now that the war is over is very slim so I won't be focusing on that in this class." Without giving her a chance for reply he started in on introducing the rest of the syllabus.

She had finished the class fuming. The fact that this man thought all his students would end up simply as wives and mothers was ridiculous and old fashioned. Women had been holding all kinds of jobs the last few years, why should that stop just because the men were home? Sybil had no problem with people getting married and having children but that didn't mean women needed to limit themselves. She wanted to be a doctor and she meant to do it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** I'm sorry that I didn't reply to all of your reviews, I am so happy you are reading and enjoying, life has gotten crazy. Which is also part of the reason this chapter took so long. The other reason being it was very hard for me to write for some reason. It's not the chapter I wanted, and seriously I'm not proud of it. I would rewrite it but I think I would just rewrite this forever and never get to move on with the story. So here it is, a little more about Tom (still some mystery I hope) and they finally meet. So that's good right?

* * *

For the most part Tom kept to himself. He was surprised, but happy, that it worked out that way. He went to classes and just focused, nobody bothered him much. A few times someone would say something to him but the comments often fell flat. He hated the times that people would comment on their assumptions that he had been wounded in action. They got it right, but it always seemed to end in how proud they were of men like him.

Tom wasn't proud. He hadn't wanted to be a hero, he wasn't a hero. He was the unlucky kid who got drafted, who left his home, life, and future behind only to take those things away from some other poor kid. Tom was the unlucky guy, who by the dumb decisions of his commander, would never have the life he left.

These thoughts raged in his mind as he tried desperately to focus on the paper he was writing. It took all his concentration to make his handwriting legible enough to turn in but that just frustrated him more. It was another problem he wouldn't have had before the war and before the accident. His hand shook as he tried to grip the pen tighter, hoping somehow that would help. It was going to be a long evening.

* * *

"You'd think that with everyone returning home we wouldn't have to take our turn serving in the kitchen anymore," Ethel complained as she pulled the gloves from her purse and worked them on her fingers. She, Gwen, and Sybil had just finished their volunteer shift, a requirement the college still held over from war time, during which Ethel had complained almost the whole time. "Part of the reason I came to college is so I wouldn't have to be doing work like this for the rest of my life."

Sybil sighed but didn't say anything, it had proved almost impossible to argue with Ethel, even when possible it was entirely not worth it. Gwen however did speak up, "I don't mind it, it's not hard work."

Ethel ignored the comment, "well I'm meeting some of the other girls for a movie, would you like to come?"

The other two both shook their heads. "I'm headed to the library to study for a little while," Gwen explained.

Sybil nodded in agreement, "I wanted to study a little more tonight as well."

Ethel shrugged, "you two are such drags, you never want to do anything fun."

Sybil could have been offended by Ethel's comment, but she had already learned not to take anything her roommate said very seriously. She and Gwen chatted on their way to the library but went their separate ways once inside. Sybil combed the shelves in the sciences section, hoping for some answer that a certain professor had refused to give in class. She took a few off the shelves and began searching through them.

Settling at a table Sybil opened a new book in front of her. It was a medical text, one of the few that she had found that wasn't so outdated it could have helped civil war nurses. It only took a few pages though for Sybil to realized this book was just as vague as her textbooks and she wouldn't find any answers. Frustrated she slammed the book down on the table in front of her, gaining her some surprised looks from other patrons.

She didn't care that they watched her slam the book down, she didn't care that they watched her leave the building. How was she supposed to learn anything if nobody would help her? She was halfway there before she realized she was headed to the Harvard library. A few years ago an agreement had been struck that Radcliffe girls could use the Harvard library but Sybil didn't know anybody who had.

By the time she reached the front steps her anger had calmed but she was still determined. She straightened her clothes and kept her head high as she walked right up to the front desk, calmly asking where she would find the medical texts.

Nobody said anything to her but she could feel eyes following her as she made her way through the aisles, not only looking for a text that would provide answer but also taking ones that seemed interesting.

The selection of books, compared to the small library at Radcliffe, was astounding. It wasn't long before Sybil's arms were full of heavy books, looking away from the shelves she spotted a corner table with only one occupant. She hurried over and dropped her books on the other side. "You don't mind if I sit here do you?" She asked.

The young man looked up, startled he shook his head, "no, no that's fine."

It was her turn to look surprised, the slight accent to his voice was unfamiliar, but nice. She wanted to ask him about it but he had already turned back to his work and seemed focused so she sat down and tried to do the same. Soon she was absorbed in her books. She had been side tracked from her original question by tons of other interesting information. Sybil poured over the books until the voice of her table companion came again.

"They are closing the library."

She looked up and looked around. How had she missed the signs completely? Most people were gone, the last few packing up their things to go home. Even the man across from her had somehow replaced his books and put everything away without her noticing. Her face turned red, "oh yes, I guess I had better go," she said as she began to close the many books around her. "I really hadn't realized it was so late."

He smiled, "must have been interesting reading. Could I walk you home?"

She nodded and then realized how oblivious she had been as she watched him reach for a cane she had not noticed before. "I'd like that," she said.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **I don't have much to say other than thank you for reading, reviewing, and sticking with my slow updates. Thanks for Shana-Rosee who beta reads these for me.

* * *

The night was still warm, the last remnants of summer air mingling with a breeze that spoke of autumn. Sybil had always loved evenings like this. Her parents had always thrown a party before the girls returned to school in the fall and although Sybil had never been much of a fan of her parents social events, the late summer party signaled the beginning of fall and with it many things Sybil loved.

The last one of such parties took place just months before the attacks on Pearl Harbor. The boys Sybil danced with had no idea of their impending fates, even the ones who might have seen war coming had no idea what would be in store for them personally, her dear friend Tom included. The first boy to ask her to dance and the only one to make her laugh that night, nothing romantic had been between them but she had appreciated his friendship. Less than a year later his Navy ship was destroyed in the pacific.

After walking a few moments in silence Sybil shook off the sad memories of Tom Bellasis and turned to the man walking beside her. "Why did you offer to walk me home?"

Her companion laughed "a couple reasons, one being, my mother would have my hide for letting a young woman walk home alone after dark."

It was her turn to grin, "well, my mother would have a heart attack knowing I was walking home with a strange man."

"That I can fix," and with that he stopped and held out his hand, "I'm Tom, Tom Branson."

The name washed her with memories again but she held back her surprise, his hand was rough with calluses or scars but she couldn't tell which. "Sybil Crawley."

He began to walk on again, "You're a brave one, accepting the company of a stranger, although, I think you could take me if you really needed to."

She shook her head, "I doubt it would come to that." A quiet fell between them, punctuated by her heels on the pavement. Finally she spoke again, "so what was the other reason?"

"What?"

"You said there were a couple reasons you offered to walk me back, you told me about your mother but you didn't say the other reason."

"Oh, I wanted to know what prompted you to come to the Harvard library."

It didn't matter that less than ten minutes ago this man was a stranger across a library table, Sybil's frustrations burst forth. She explained the professor, the other students, and all the other disappointments that had come with her first few weeks at school.

Finally, as they neared her dorm, her exposition slowed, "sorry, that was pointless, I'm just frustrated."

"Don't worry, it definitely answered my question," he said.

"Well, thank you very much for the company home, Tom. It was nice to meet you."

He shook her offered hand, "it was nice to meet you too."

He wanted to say more but at that moment another girl hurried by them and Sybil glanced at her watch, sending her towards the building without a further comment. She made it inside the door just as the dorm matron was there to lock it. Sybil paused only long enough to turn and give Tom a smile before running down the halls to her room.

It was there she found Ethel at the window. "Oh, almost missed curfew, and out with a man. I didn't think you the type." Ethel crowed.

Sybil ignored the comment and joined her roommate at the window. Tom had just turned his back and was walking away as Ethel continued, "he's handsome, too bad about the limp."

Watching from afar his limp was more noticeable, but what Sybil couldn't see as she watched Tom walk away into the night was the smile spread across his face. He hadn't forgotten everything of course, he didn't think that would ever happen, but his conversation with Sybil had at least distracted him.

_Nurses stood on either side of him as he lifted his leg for his first step. It was harder than Tom would have ever admitted. He grimaced in pain and frustration as his body refused to respond to the directions his brain was sending. Barely a foot away from where he had begun Tom collapsed onto his bed. "This is pointless," he had grumbled at nobody in particular but one of the nurses spoke up in response. _

"_It isn't pointless and it won't always be this hard. Someday it will be as natural to you as anything else." _

He hadn't believed the reassurances then and hadn't believed them many times since but after realizing that he had listened to Sybil's story without thinking about every step, he had a little hope.


	5. Chapter 5

**Authors Note: **It's been a crazy long time I know, but I hope there is still some interest for this.

* * *

The little bell tinkled as Tom walked into the garage. On a nicer day the big bay doors would have been open to whatever his brother was working on inside but the chill of fall had begun to set in so Tom had entered through the customer entrance. Kieran was at his desk in the small office off the main room looking over some account books and without looking up to see who walked in he called out "be right there."

Tom didn't wait, he walked behind the counter and into the familiar office. "So how's the business holding up?"

His older brother Kieran looked up in surprise at the familiar voice. Grinning before answering, "it's nothing without you. Are you sure you don't want to drop those boring school books and come back to work for me?"

Tom shook his head and held out his hands, palms up. "You know I can't, I wouldn't be any help." His brother looked to say something but Tom didn't let him interrupt. "I'm not having you pay me to hang around and do nothing."

"We could use your expertise around here anyway." Kieran stood up and walked over to the window to the car bays. Tom followed his gaze to a pair of scrawny legs sticking out from under a car as his brother continued, "Michael's been coming in to help me out but he's a bit of a knucklehead when it comes to cars. He's getting better but he's still so slow and we've been busy I'm trying to decide if I can afford to hire someone else as well."

Knowing that accounts and figures had never been his brother's strong point Tom offered to look things over. The offer was gladly accepted and soon Tom was sitting at the desk alone going over the past few months records while Kieran headed out to work on another customers car.

The three brothers closed the shop for lunch, walking across the street for some sandwiches. It felt good to be with his brothers again but Tom also felt a small sense of sadness for the way it used to be. Michael had grown up a lot in the last couple years and Tom himself had done some changing. It wasn't more obvious than when the conversation turned to the recently converged general session of the united nations. Michael was sure that it was going to do the world some real good. That it would avoid future wars. He voiced his opinions strongly and sensibly but he seemed too optimistic, too bright. Kieran added a few thoughts but it was clear they were waiting for Tom's input. The old Tom would have had a clear opinion but now he just shrugged, as he sipped his cocoa cola. It didn't matter anyway, nothing was going to change at all, let alone to match the wishes of three lower class boys sitting in a diner.

* * *

It was just ridiculous Sybil thought as she stormed out of the classroom. Her face was red with embarrassment at the fresh memory of the talking to she had gotten in class. She had merely asked for clarification because what the professor was saying was different that something she had read. Well the very touchy Professor Stanton had taken offense, saying that Sybil could leave class and return when she decided that he was the professor and not her. Sybil wasn't sure she she wanted to ever go back, at least not to his class.

Her anger lessened and her embarrassment increased as she walked the two blocks to the river front. She sat angrily on the ground, watching the river flow past.

"You don't mind if I sit here, do you?" Tom's voice brought Sybil's head up. She nodded as he slowly lowered himself onto the damp grass next to her. Once settled, "you seem upset, what did the world do to you today?"

She told him the whole story, causing Tom to chuckle. "Every time I run into you you seemed worked up about something."

Her voice rose angrily, "it's only been twice," she made a movement to stand, "sorry to bother you with all my somethings."

His hand rested on on her leg, "no, please stay. I shouldn't have laughed, it's not funny. I just thought it was funny the only way we run into each other is when you are running from something else."

She sat back down, leaning back on her elbows. "I guess I do get upset easily. It's just this school thing is so frustrating. I didn't expect it to be this way."

"Well what did you expect? You are going to Radcliffe college, you do know what they say about Radcliffe girls right?"

"I do know, my sisters went here, and Mary, well it seemed to do the trick for her. I just thought that since the war…" she paused, breathing deeply, "well, I hoped thing would be different."

"Didn't we all?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** If you were an early reader of the last chapter it ended with a flashback. I went to bed the night after publishing and decided that it wasn't what I wanted. It was too negative for pre-war Branson. So I took it out. Sorry to confuse people, that'll be the last time hopefully that happens.

I'm still pretty insecure in writing Sybil and Tom and writing in general but I love this story and hope that I tell it well. Thanks as always to the ever lovely Shana-Rosee for her help. I often find myself stuck and in need of someone to talk to things about. I'm grateful she's willing.

* * *

"Didn't we all?" The question settled in the air, unanswered and unquestioned. The Tom and Sybil sat in silence a few moments, watching the river, before he spoke up. "You know my best night of studying was that evening you shared a library table with me."

She chuckled a little, "I would have thought that I was more distracting than helpful."

"Nah, I saw how focused you were and decided I would look like a slouch if I wasn't working as well. The paper I turned in the next day has been my best."

"I guess I will have to frequent the Harvard library more often."

In the week Sybil made a habit of going to the library, seeking out thick medical texts and the corner table where more often than not Tom would be there with his own school work. Tom would read and read but made an effort not to write much when Sybil was with him, instead laboring long on his papers upon returning to his small room after walking Sybil home.

Tonight, though, it couldn't be avoided, he had to finish the paper and since he was already exhausted Tom didn't think he would be able to do it all after the library closed. He looked down at his hands, they still didn't look like his. They didn't feel like his either. He'd worked with them his whole life and now his scarred and slightly quivering hands had trouble gripping a pencil.

All his focus was on making his handwriting legible,at first Tom didn't notice Sybil's lowered books and raised eyes. When he finally raised his eyes from his paper to meet hers she spoke softly, "can I help?"

Tom bristled defensively, he ignored her question and began shoving his papers back in his bag as he stood to leave.

Sybil was confused. "But…"

He cut her off. "I'm not some charity case," he said as he turned to leave.

His words startled her and she watched him go. But a moment later she flung her own things in her bag and ran after him. From the steps of the library she could still see him. "Wait," she called as she ran towards him. It didn't take her long to catch up, "I didn't mean it like that at all."

He turned to look at her, "then what did you mean?"

"Just that, well, we are friends, right?" He nodded in response, the anger in his eyes tempering a little. Sybil continued, "friends help each other, and know about each other. I hardly know anything about you."

She was right, she had never asked about his injuries, she hadn't asked about his past, she hadn't even ever asked if he had served in the war or not. If they were to be friends, which Tom did want, she deserved to know at least a little about him.

"I'm sorry, I'm a little sensitive about my writing. I was a mechanic before the war, I planned to do it my whole life." He opened his palms towards her.

In the dusky evening light she saw, white scars crisscrossed both his palms and his fingers. She reached out and gingerly touched them. "I'm sorry."

Tom shook his head, "it's ok." He gripped his cane again and walked on, not looking at her as he continued his story. "I got drafted and that was the end of my mechanic days, I can't hold any tools tight enough to be much help let alone the fact that getting up from under a car would take me about half a day," he said, nodding at his leg.

"Can I ask what happened?"

"I was stationed somewhere in France. Most companies had pulled out of where we were, but for some reason we hadn't. One night bombs started hitting us. I don't remember much, just pulling burning rubble off my leg and crawling out of there."

The chilly air made Sybil shiver and Tom continued, "they said I was lucky. I only lost my leg and not also my hands… or my life."

"You were lucky."

"No, I don't see it that way. Was I lucky to come home with no livelihood, having probably taken that, or worse, away from so many other people?"

"But Hilter needed to be stopped, you sacrificed for that."

"Of course what Hitler was doing was atrocious but how was killing a bunch of Germans better than what he was doing? How was that stopping him?"

They had stopped in front of his door as she noticed her shivering under her light sweater. "Come in and have some coffee. We can work here, since I'm sure you weren't done with your studying when you left the library."

She nodded and followed him inside. His comments about the war weighing heavily on her mind. The apartment was small, the main room housing a small table with two chairs, a couch, and small cooking area. A little radio stood on a table in the corner. There were a couple dishes in the sink but otherwise the place was neat without being fussy. She smiled a little knowing how her mother would react to the fact she was here.

Even after he handed her a cup she stood in the middle of the room, it wasn't until he had gotten his own and sat at the table did she pull out the chair across from him and sit down. He pulled out his bag, "I'm sorry, but I really do need to get this paper written tonight."

"Would it help if you dictated it and I wrote it?" She asked, "I'm done with what I needed to do tonight anyway."

This time her offer to help was accepted and when she returned to her apartment as the matron was locking the door she didn't even hear Edna's teasing.


End file.
